


Harder to Breathe

by MyTARDISsenseIsTingling



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, just pretty much felt like writing smut, just saying, smutty smut smut, with the blue scarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyTARDISsenseIsTingling/pseuds/MyTARDISsenseIsTingling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like many Sherlolly shippers I had to roll my eyes in jealousy over Sherlock's "relationship" with Jeanine in "His Last Vow."  Naturally after watching I had to go write some Sherlolly smut out of that jealousy and this is what came about.</p><p>Sherlock… SAY YOU'RE SORRY.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harder to Breathe

Frantic knocking on the door at 10:00 pm could only mean two things:

1) Someone was trying to break in using the clever ruse of a distraught stranger in need of help and Molly should get out her mace.  
2) Sherlock Holmes needed something and Molly should still probably get out her mace.

Just kidding she’d never actually needed to mace Sherlock Holmes; she just sometimes felt sudden intense urges to. Especially now… well… she’d almost rather it was a break-in at this point. She didn’t want to have to deal with that shit.

But, because these thoughts were sarcastic and Molly did not actually want to be robbed or worse, she checked the peephole first before doing anything else. Her heart gave a jolt. She sighed in frustration, leaning back against the door, torn between wanting to scream “GO AWAY” and wanting to fling the door wide and give him whatever he needed.

Because, oh yes, it was indeed option number 2 standing at the door.

As Molly stood on the other side, warring with herself on whether to ignore him or not, the knocking started again.

“Molly? Are you home?”

She didn’t answer, biting her lip as her brain continued its mental game of Ping-Pong between her two options.

“Molly, you wiped your rain boots on the mat and then left them outside the door when you walked in, indicating that you did, in fact, come home and have not left again since-”

“ALRIGHT FINE.”

Molly flung the door open a bit more aggressively than she meant to. It went flying out of her control, the handle leaving a dent in the wall behind it.

“Shit,” she grumbled, eying the damage, but Sherlock seemed unfazed. Instead, he looked up at her with an infuriatingly pleased look on his face as she opened the door and sidestepped past her into the apartment in one swift motion.

“Thank you.”

“No one said you could come inside.”

“You were going to make me stand in the hall? Doesn’t most of polite society consider that rude?”

“Yeah, but so is barging into someone’s house without being asked.”

“Touché…” He wasn’t looking at her, but walking through her flat now as she followed in protest.

“Why are you here, Sherlock?”

“Why so hostile, Molly?”

“Are you still playing with people’s emotions for the sake of your investigations?”

“Oh yes that well actually that’s why I’m here- oh drinking tonight are we?”

Sherlock had just spotted the three-quarters-full bottle of wine Molly still had sitting out on the counter. Her wine glass, which barely gotten her first sip from before he’d knocked, was sitting over by the telly which was still on and flickering gently on the movie she’d been watching. Sherlock grabbed the bottle and took a long swig, then choked.

“Ugh it’s so sweet!”

“It’s Moscato…”

“And you actually like it?”

“Yes. Yes I do. Helps me deal with pricks like you who just show up to my door at night. Are you about to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Sherlock, whose entire mood had been so flippant since he’d walked in, finally allowed the smirk to slide off his face. He fixed Molly with a long stare, and she got the feeling he might be sizing her up. For what, she had no idea.

“This last month has been… difficult. To say the least.”

“Oh you don’t say,” Molly chided, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She grabbed the wine bottle and took another swig directly from it, letting it flush her cheeks and warm her ears. 

“Are you still cross then?”

“Yes I’m still cross! Sherlock, you can’t just play with peoples’ emotions the way you’ve been doing. I told you when this whole thing started, it’s wrong. Oh ‘boo-hoo,’ it’s been so hard on you, imagine how she’s going to feel when she finds out you’ve been lying to her!”

“Oh she was fine with it actually.”

Molly was struck dumb for a moment before she could find her voice again. “She was what?”

“I decided to tell her what was going on. She was a bit angry at first but then I explained to her about Magnussen and the danger he’s placing on the entire city. She became very understanding rather quickly.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, she also made me promise that once it’s all officially over, she’ll get to publicly ridicule me, therefore receiving her own payday and five minutes of fame out of the deal.”

“And you’re just okay with this?”

“I don’t think I have much choice in the matter. I need her. I need this façade.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

Molly, at a loss for anything else to say, took another swig of wine in the silence. Sherlock’s biting gaze didn’t leave her the entire time, a fact of which she was all-too aware. It always gave her goose bumps when he looked at her like that, although she’d grown accustomed to trying to ignore them. 

“So you just came here at 10:00 at night to tell me that? That’s all?”

“I just… I wanted you to know.”

“At 10:00 at night?”

“You were just so upset with me about the situation I thought it might be nice to try to put your mind at ease.”

“Oh you thought it would be nice. Really. You thought I was just sitting around fretting about how you were getting on with your fake girlfriend?”

“Well, no… not really…”

“Fine! Congratulations then, I’m really glad you’re happy and your not-really girlfriend knows she’s not really your girlfriend now. Fantastic. Bloody brilliant. Not as much of a dick as you could have been. Gold star for you. Well if that’s all you’ve got to say then you should probably be going now, Sherlock.”

Molly gestured forcefully at the hall indicating for him to leave. He didn’t move.

“Sherlock…” Molly sighed in frustration, leaned back against the kitchen counter, and took another drink. “Please just go. I’m trying to have a nice quiet Friday night and I really don’t need your mind games right now.”

“You were jealous,” the detective said, suddenly. 

“I beg your pardon?”

“When I first told you about Janine. You weren’t just irritated at me for my questionable moral choices. You were jealous too, weren’t you?”

“Sherlock, shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Undeniable signs of irritation, including the way your foot kept tapping and the look you had on your face, mixed with the usual signs of romantic attraction, clearly a formula for jealousy.”

“Okay, fine, and what were you trying to do, then? You were jealous too, Sherlock, just admit it.”

“Jealousy is an irrational emotion that plays into the human error of romantic attraction that I intentionally choose to remove myself from.”

“No don’t try to pull that over on me, you were jealous too. Telling me about Janine right in front of Tom? Really? What were you trying to do, one-up him? You seemed quite put-off after that sex comment awhile back too. Honestly, you act like it, but you’re not as immune as you think. You’re not a machine pretending to be a human, Sherlock, you’re a human pretending to be a machine!”

Sherlock stared at her in incredulity. It was probably the bluntest she’d ever been with him, but it felt good to finally get it out.

“Fine. It is… possible that some unusual reactions may have been occurring recently that I was not exactly… expecting…”

Molly felt her eyebrows shoot up and had to actively stop her jaw from dropping. She let out a slightly involuntary giggle of triumph.

“Aha! Hahaha! Did I finally get you to fess up to something? Did I, the lowly Molly Hooper, make the great Sherlock Holmes admit weakness? Hell hath frozen over-”

Molly had been so busy cherishing her moment of triumph that she hadn’t realized how close Sherlock had gotten. When she looked back over at him she found his face inches away and froze.

“Yes, Molly. I was jealous.”

His voice had lowered to a purr. Molly was suddenly finding it extremely difficult to breathe evenly. 

“I didn’t like when you were with Tom.”

He leaned down to drop a kiss on her neck, leaving the spot where his lips touched tingling. Molly felt herself trembling at the sensation.  
“And I didn’t like kissing Janine.”

This time his lips grazed her jawline.

“Because I would have rather been kissing you instead.”

His lips finally caught hers, and what started out as a soft kiss quickly gained intensity. Years of longing, months of tension, everything seemed to break down as they attempted to pour every unresolved emotion into each other as their lips fought. Sherlock brought his hands up to cup the sides of her head, drawing her further into him, as though he couldn’t drink her in enough. The taste of the Moscato still sweetly on both of their lips. All Molly wanted was for him to be closer, to pull him tightly against her, but he’d trapped her forearms with his own as he grasped her. Sherlock opened Molly’s mouth with his own to deepen the kiss, curling his tongue against hers. Molly was breathless, her heart racing, her mind floating somewhere in the clouds. Every inch of her felt like she’d been electrically charged.  
Sherlock began to move his hands down, freeing Molly’s arms, but briefly breaking the kiss so he could rip open the buttons down the front of her shirt. One button even popped off, flying over to the side somewhere, but Molly couldn’t give less of a shit. She helped him by shrugging off the rest of the shirt and throwing it to the side, exposing her bare breasts, for she’d already done away with her bra hours ago in agitation after a long day at work. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Molly,” he murmured, sinking his lips back onto hers as he cupped her breast, and then slowly began to work his way down, kissing her neck. Molly smiled breathlessly, her eyes closed in arousal.

“I thought beauty was a false societal construct.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he spoke in between kisses. “Who would ever say a thing like that?”

She tried to laugh, but the sound was lost in her heavy breathing as his lips kneaded at her breast, then worked their way over to the other, causing her to shiver openly. Then Molly felt him tug at the top of her trousers, and opened her eyes to watch him peel them down and off her legs to expose the lacy knickers she wore underneath. He ran his hands up her legs as he stood back up, grabbing her at the bum to hoist her until she was sitting on the kitchen counter. She leaned back on her hands, nearly entirely exposed to the man who stood before her, still fully clothed in his signature suit. He took his sweet time coming forward to kiss her again, allowing himself to revel at the sight of her first. She reveled in his admiration of her.

His kiss was slow this time, their mouths opened wide against one another, his fingers still grasping at her hair. So much of it had come undone by now that he just pulled off the band keeping it held back into a ponytail so that it came spilling down around her shoulders, finally free. He stepped back, keeping his eyes on hers, and took her thighs in his hands to spread them apart.

“But Sherlock, your clothes-”

“Needn’t be worried about just at the moment.”

Then he slid a hand teasingly up the inside of her thigh, tracing quiver-inducing shapes along the soft exposed flesh with his spindling fingers. On the other thigh, he bent to leave a few soft kisses, but then quickly drew his face back up to continue to watch Molly’s expressions of delight as his touch sent her nerves firing. Involuntary tremors began to course through her legs until finally he tugged aside the lace of her pants. 

“Well somebody seems to be quite worked up already,” Sherlock murmured, smirking at her wetness. She’d frozen now, breathing fast, all the senses at her opening throbbing in anticipation as Sherlock’s finger danced around its edge. 

“Sherlock,” she croaked out in frustration, “you’re being a tease!”

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

And it was still another few seconds before he finally plunged his finger into Molly, causing her to let out a loud gasp. He began to work his way around, finding her clit to make her moan and fall back, lying across the polished surface of the counter on the island of cabinets in the middle of the kitchen. With each tug of his finger, she bucked into him, arching her back. In the midst of the epicenter of pleasure that was pooling beneath her, Molly could feel his gaze on her, drinking in her every expression of ecstasy, and somehow it turned her on even more to know how much he was enjoying watching her. He moved her legs even further apart, moving in deeper, causing her to moan louder. His towering clothed form made her feel even more exposed and vulnerable than if he’d joined her in her nudity. She felt entirely at his mercy. And oddly enough, in this case, she was okay with that.

Sherlock removed his fingers then, causing Molly to let out a small whine, but then she felt a brush of soft curls against her inner thigh. Suddenly his hot breath was at her opening. She felt his tongue brush against her wet pink folds, lightly at first, getting his first taste, before dipping further and deeper, pulling with lips and tongue. Molly began to squirm as the beautiful tension built below, but Sherlock put his hands back on her thighs to hold her still. She rocked against his face, his tongue sucking frantically at her, her arms scrabbling against his hands as she strained to throw her legs around him, drawing him even deeper. But as she was nearing climax he withdrew yet again to her great dismay.

“Sherlock, what the hell?”

“It’s hard to do my job over here with you twisting and squirming about. We should really find a way to keep you still…”

 

*

 

And that was how Molly Hooper found herself naked with her hands tied to her bed by Sherlock’s blue scarf. 

The detective, who still hadn’t removed a single article of his own clothing yet but his shoes, sank down next to her, silently tracing her form with a cold delicate finger, sending shivers all down her body. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling the buzz of want with every fiber of her being. 

“It’s fascinating,” Sherlock murmured, leaning down to kiss her between her breasts as her chest rose and fell. “Biologically speaking the body is simply mass: the machine that keeps all human beings running. It is merely meant to serve the functions necessary to keeping us alive for awhile and allowing us to reproduce another generation that can then reproduce their own generation and so on.”

“Sherlock I work in a morgue, I don’t need a biology lesson.”

He’d leaned down onto his elbow now to focus his sharp blue eyes directly into her soft brown ones. 

“But but then we developed the higher levels of thought process… and we became a whole different level of species than the earth had ever seen before. We’re capable of doing so much, and I’ve always thought the emotions that came with it all for whatever reason were only a detriment to the possibilities of what the human mind could achieve.”

Molly watched him, transfixed. Sherlock’s finger trailed back down to dip inside her again, causing her to let out a startled cry of pleasure and strain against her bonds. Sherlock smirked, eyes alight, taking in the scene avidly. Then all too soon he withdrew again.  
“But I’m starting to think that maybe there is no separating the emotion from the intellect. Because no matter how I try, Molly Hooper, I cannot seem to separate you from any of it anymore. The beauty…”

He bent his neck over to kiss her.

“The desire…” His voice was low and husky as his breath tickled her ear. “Molly you are amazing. I’m sorry it took so long to see that.”

Molly could hardly believe she was hearing these words come out of his mouth. But when she looked at him, there wasn’t a trace of irony or malice in his face the way she was used to. He had an expression of sincerity that she would have previously thought him incapable of even managing. But there they were. 

There was only one thing Molly could think to say, at this point. She rolled her eyes and gave him a mischievous grin.  
“Sherlock Holmes, stop deducing and take your clothes off.”

At last, Sherlock didn’t seem to be wasting anymore time. He had his buttons undone and his shirt off with a flourish in a matter of seconds, followed shortly by his trousers. Now it was finally Molly’s turn to blatantly oggle at his elegantly taught physique. She wanted to reach out and stroke the subtle yet traceable shapes of his muscles but his scarf held her back firmly. It was frustrating, yet somehow all the more arousing. 

When he slid off his pants, it was revealed just how massive his hard-on had actually gotten. Molly felt her eyebrows raise.  
“Sherlock… I need you, inside me, right now.”

After quickly producing and pulling on a condom, Sherlock strode over and dropped over Molly in one fluid motion, his erection paused right over her pulsing cunt. His eyes looked directly into hers.

“Right now you say?”

“Sherlock this is getting really-ol-ohhhhhh…”

He slid into her causing her to break off mid-sentence into a moan. He seemed to fit inside her so perfectly, filling her so completely that it sent an explosion of sensation from her core to rock her entire body. She jolted forward against the ties again, closing her eyes and letting the wave of rapture course through her. Sherlock backed out, only to sink into her yet again, causing the entire process to begin anew. Molly tried to stifle the noises escaping inadvertently from her mouth, forcing them into whispered words, instead. “Yes… Sherlock… oh god…”

He continued the motion, but slowly began to increase his speed. Molly strained against her bonds, thrashing in vain for the control she’d already surrendered, wanting to pull him closer, disperse the tension that was so painfully good. Sherlock took notice and paused, grinning at her struggles.

“See this is why we had to tie you up.”

“Sherlock-”

But he’d sat up and moved his hands to her thighs, pushing them further apart and keeping them still so she could not move them. His movements against her grew faster. Molly moved feebly back in response, but was ultimately rendered helpless under his grip as the pleasure center began to increase in intensity below, causing her to toss her head and thrash even more, cries randomly flying from her. It felt so good she almost couldn’t stand it. She was incoherent. There was no world around her anymore, no space, no time, just Sherlock and her together and the ecstasy engulfing her feeling so fucking good. His desperate moans finally joined hers in a strange kind of harmony and then she felt herself being pushed to the brink, her orgasm breaking over her in a wash of bliss. A few seconds later, Sherlock slowed his movements, and came to a stop as well: his quick, heavy breathing tickling her ear. They lay there for a moment, listening to each others’ heartbeats. Then Molly let out a little giggle.

“Well…” she said breathlessly. “That was… certainly… nice…”

“That would be an understatement.”

Sherlock took off the condom to throw it away and then leaned back over her again, reaching up to fumble with the knots in his scarf. Molly felt it come loose and she pulled her hands down to grasp him finally, holding him tightly to her as he pulled her in for another long kiss. He slipped his arms all the way around her too, until they were all tangled up together as though neither ever wanted to let the other go.

Some time later, they fell asleep the same way.


End file.
